Part 28 (1/2)

”I'd like to see one!” blurted Delaney.

Harry Nichols offered his arm to Loris. They pa.s.sed from the view of the two detectives with the locked, gliding stride of two dancers who moved to slow time. Drew heard the portieres which led to the writing-room rustle downward and settle into place. He pa.s.sed his hand over his forehead and breathed deeply.

”We'll get busy,” he whispered tersely. ”We'll search these rooms again. Let's start with a definite foundation!”

Delaney grunted at the uselessness of this as he reached and took the detective's overcoat which was peeled off and extended to him.

”Hang it on a chair,” said Drew sharply. ”Over there with my hat. Now,”

he snapped, ”what about the windows of this room, the little reception hall and the bedroom over there? That's a bedroom, isn't it?”

”Sure, Chief! I frisked it good. The Central Office men were up here early in the morning. They went through everything. Fosd.i.c.k, they say, was like a bull. He said the thing couldn't be done.”

”It _was_ done!”

”Did you get any clue, Chief, as to how it was done?”

”It's as much a mystery as ever. But we're tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the tree called Truth with a broad ax. I'm going around this case to get the man or men who did it. Then we'll find out how it was done!”

”Oh!” Delaney's expression was thought-laden. ”Just thought of it, Chief. I got them plaster-of-paris casts. I got 'em down stairs. It was some job, believe me. I took everything about that junction-box, after I'd thawed the snow with hot blankets which a good-looking cook brought to me.”

”Go down and get them!”

Delaney hurried out through the tapestries of the room. Drew started his search of the apartment by a study of the windows and the catches.

He opened one and glanced outside. Snow had drifted to the depth of three inches on the sill. This snow was unmarked. He examined all of the sills extending from the three rooms. He closed and locked the windows. He backed off into the center of the reception room and studied the situation from every angle. The furniture was fragile and in sets of such splendid periods his eyes closed over them. The rugs and tapestries--curtains and portieres--sheathings of yellow hand-painted silk from Nippon--rare ceramics and cloisonnes--a huge peach-blow vase of the Ming dynasty and a hundred little jade and jasper knick-knacks were the outward evidence of wealth.

He opened the plate-gla.s.s cases and peered inside. He crawled under a couch and backed out dusting his hands. He tapped with slow knuckles a long cheval-gla.s.s by the side of which was a tiny gold-bracket and a silver-plated telephone. He went the rounds of the walls, lifting pictures, portraits and little military oils by French painters of the Franco-Prussian period. He found nothing to excite his suspicion!

Entering a simple bedroom, with its tiled flooring and its single white bed, he spared this as he pa.s.sed to the bath beyond, which had no outlet save a ventilating shaft securely barred by a bronze grating of close, fantastic-scrolled mesh.

Delaney's heavy steps were heard in the reception hall as Drew finished. Striding out into the larger room he frowned as the operative deposited a blanket upon a Persian rug and began to untie its corners.

”I got 'em here, Chief,” explained the a.s.sistant with upturned face.

”There's five or six prints--all alike.”

”What? Repeat that!” Drew dropped to one knee.

”Sure, Chief. There's only been one guy at that junction-box before the freezing started. He made plenty of tracks. He came and went from the fence to the box. It's a small foot. There was plenty of prints made after the snow piled on top of these little prints.”

”The operatives?”

”Sure, and the Central Office bunch! But these prints I got here are the only ones under the snow. They stuck up when I melted away the surface.”

Delaney offered a plaster-cast of the top of a footprint. It was roughly done. It had been made, like the others in the blanket, by pouring cold plaster within a retaining bulge of soap. The plaster had hardened and brought out each detail. Drew traced his finger over the toe. ”Right foot,” he said. ”Now let's see the others!”

”Here's a left foot, Delaney,” added the detective slowly. ”Only one left and four right. That might happen. You didn't take them all. Well, bundle them up and plant them somewhere. Put them under that couch, out of sight. I've got an idea!”

”What is it, Chief?” asked the operative as he drew on the knots until he had gathered the corners together. ”What's new? I can't see anything in sight, at-tall, at-tall. One man--that's all I see.”

”And that's _all_ I see--the trouble-hunter--Delaney!”